The next three days were a suffocating performance.
By day, I was Clarisse's Prodigy. I spent hours in the study, meticulously auditing the estate's finances. With every fraudulent expense I uncovered, Clarisse's cold trust in me solidified, and her fury at Marie grew. This, in turn, fueled Theodore's mounting misery, further destabilizing the house. My position was secure, but my body felt like a coiled spring, desperate for the dungeon grind.
By night, I was the Lurking Handler. I met Thomas in the dark cellars, providing him with a list of key questions. He moved with the nervous efficiency of a man who realized his life depended on a seven-year-old. His fear outweighed his arrogance, making him shockingly effective.
"I need to know everything about the boy, Thomas," I whispered in the damp cellar. "Who he is. Where he rests. Where he hunts the Blight-spawn."
